


Public Transport

by thelemon_isinplay



Category: Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Lorry, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:34:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelemon_isinplay/pseuds/thelemon_isinplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard and James must take a ride on a coach, much to Richard's dismay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Transport

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nissancubes.tumblr.com](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nissancubes.tumblr.com).



_Stupid coach_ , James thought miserably. Every passenger bounced from their seat whenever the coach encountered even the slightest irregularity in the road. He heard Hammond sigh heavily in the seat beside him and looked over to see his co-host pinching the bridge of his nose and clamping his other hand on the back of the seat in front of them. The shorter man looked pale, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing heavy and pained as he braced his shoulder against the window.

"Are you quite alright?" James asked cautiously, one eyebrow raised.

Hammond took a minute to respond, doing so in a particularly defeated tone. "No."

"What is it? You can't be carsick," James said.

"I - no, what? I drive cars for a living, 'course I'm not carsick, you daft bugger," Hammond said. "I'm..."

"Yes...?"

"Now, don't laugh," Hammond warned. He opened his eyes and released the bridge of his nose from his tight grip, focusing it instead upon the seat in front of them.

"I won't," James assured him.

"I... I'm coach-sick," Hammond admitted, glancing away.

James bit his lip and thinly concealed a smile. "You're what?"

"I won't say it again."

"How can you be coach-sick?"

"Please shut up."

"Is it like seasickness? 'Cos that might make sense."

"Yes. Sure. Now shut up."

James put his hands up in mock surrender. "All right."

After a minute or two of glancing over at his colleague, concernedly now, James asked, "'S'there anything I can do?"

Hammond rested his head on his extended arm to look at James, his eyes half-closed with tired illness. "Just...shut up," he said, not a trace of anger in his voice, just a defeated, soft tone.

James nodded, then attempted to lean back on his seat. The bounces and jolts were terrible, and though it may have felt as if it was just you and the road as the driver, it felt as though you were being hauled along the tarmac on your face from the spot near the tyres where they sat. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore all external stimuli, but he felt a gradual weight on his shoulder, steadily gaining weight. He glanced down to find Richard leaning his head on his shoulder heavily.

Hammond could tell James was staring at him now, so he repeated sleepily, "Shut up."

James just smiled and leaned his head back once more, letting Hammond hold onto his arm for support. "I shall continue to say nothing," he muttered a promise.


End file.
